The Trio Multiplied
by Romulan Empress
Summary: [WIP]Third installment in my Trekkie Trio series! What happens when the oldest children of Qwi, T'Son, and Toreth go back to 2004? Meanwhile, the Trio itself has get fight yet another alien menace away from Earth. But with two Trios now, anything can go w
1. Introducing the Second Trio!

* * *

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek and am making no money off this. T'Son and Qwi own themselves and anything that belongs to them. I own myself, this story, and anything that belongs to me. Any of the real characters own themselves too. 

This is the sequel to **The Trio Broken** and **Attack of the Trekkie Trio!** Unlike the two previous stories, this third installment of The Trekkie Trio (what I decided to name the series, real original, huh) focuses on the Trio's kids, and yes, will involve more romance, temporal twists, evil aliens, scheming Romulans, and everything else you know and love. For more Trekkie Trio, check out ILuvHawkeye's stories. She is Qwi, and T'Son is T'Son on FFN. I, of course, am Toreth.

On a side note, the reason this took so long to get up is because I broke a finger and the doctors saw fit to put my entire hand in a cast. So, I can only type with my right hand. Expect faster updates after November 10.

* * *

Nevala was bored beyond belief. Why, oh why, did she have to have a famous mother? It did not help that about a million people had come up to her today asking if she was a Vulcan. It was enough to drive even a normal Romulan insane. And Nevala was far from normal. As the oldest child and only girl of the Chairman of the Tal Shiar, she was not only a huge target for enemies and thus had bodyguards trailing her everywhere, but she was also "expected to live according to a higher standard." Her mother pushed her through a very advanced academic program, and so though she was only thirteen, she was nearly complete with high school. It was a good thing she had inherited both her parents' brilliance academically, not such a good thing that she had her mother's temper... amplified. And right now, she had to get out.

Nevala threaded her way through the crowd. She was on Earth with her family, Vokar, Toreth, and Retaya, her little brother. The Federation president, T'Son, was apparently trying to bring a lasting peace between the UFP, the Romulans, and the Klingons. Toreth had firmly stated that that would never happen as long as she lived, but had decided to go to the conference anyway since the president was a good friend of hers from before what she jokingly referred to as her reincarnation. In fact, Toreth was talking with T'Son right now.

"Mother, President T'Son, may I please be excused from the party for a short time?" she asked in her best Federation Standard.

"What, did you drink too much champagne?" Toreth asked with a small smile. "Of course, dearest. T'Son, that was my oldest, Nevala... I believe you met her when she was seven..." Nevala sighed. Trust Toreth to forget all about her again when she was presented with the Federation president. Nevala all but ran towards the double doors at the far end and out. The hall was deserted except for a human boy about her age sitting on the base of a Greek pillar. He lifted his hand in greeting about three inches, then set it back down.

"Who are you?" Nevala asked warily.

"Alan Pierce. You?" he asked.

"Nevala," she responded. "You trying to escape the party too?"

"Yeah," Alan said in a bored tone. "I never asked to be born to the famous Qwi Pierce. So stuff me in a dress uniform and send me to a boring conference!"

"I am born to Chairman Toreth of the Tal Shiar. Go figure," Nevala said with a bored shrug. Both realized they had found allies in one another. Both were born to famous parents, and thus were doomed to suffer long diplomatic conferences and other such occasions for the rest of their lives. Nevala sat down on the column next to Alan, and both staring into the distance, thinking about what life had dealt them. This was how Syvar found them a few moments later.

"I am Syvar," the young Vulcan said. "Who are you and why are you not at the party?"

"I am Alan and this is Nevala," Alan said. At the same time, Nevala said, "Up yours, nosy."

"Nevala, do you realize that you could create an interstellar incident by insulting the son of the president of the United Federation of Planets?" Syvar asked, raising the infamous Vulcan eyebrow.

"Yeah, well, I am the daughter of the Chairman of the Tal Shiar and I do not give a-" Nevala began before Alan clapped a hand over her mouth.

"It was very nice meeting you, Syvar," he said, losing his grip on the struggling Romulan. "I am sure that our little meeting can be forgotten if you go inside now, since our Mummies and your Daddy are friends. Have a wonderful evening."

"How illogical," Syvar said stiffly before walking inside. Alan released Nevala, a little worse for the wear, but okay.

"Have you no sense!?" he demanded. "I should think that even a Romulan would know not to say 'up yours' to a Vulcan when she is at a big-deal diplomatic conference in the heart of Federation territory! Have your parents never taught you tact?"

"Mum is just as bad as me," Nevala said with a shrug. "You should hear some of the things she calls the Federation president when no one is around and she is mad at him." Having heard of the reputation of Toreth, Alan did not doubt it. "Listen, Alan, I need to get away from this politically correct cesspool." Alan had to spend a minute and three seconds regaining his composure after Nevala said this hilarious thing. "It should not be too difficult to hijack a shuttle and head for Romulus. Want to come?"

"Sure, why not?" Alan said with a shrug, thinking that she could not possibly be serious. No more was said, and the two spent the rest of the party chatting about ordinary things teenagers talk about, like whether or not Ferengi schools had latinum prizes in spelling bees and how they could get some.

Qwi had joined her friends a moment ago when Syvar came up to the Trekkie Trio. T'Son smiled fondly at him. Syvar did not smile back, but anyone who knew Vulcans would know that he was pleased too. After Syvar was introduced to Toreth (being in the UFP, Qwi already knew him), Syvar proceeded to tell the adults that their children were skipping the party, and was that against regulations? Vulcans had no concept of "tattletale;" Syvar merely was attempting to enforce the rules like a Starfleet officer.

"So what?" Toreth said breezily. "As long as they are not passionately making out, and even if they are, I see nothing wrong with skipping long, boring social occasions." She shrugged innocently, or as innocently as it was possible for Toreth to be.

"Even if you are the Chairman of the Tal Shiar, I am shocked by the way the Romulan government lets you, and now I see your family, get away with so much," T'Son said, his eyebrow raised.

"Do I sense an implication about the Romulan government?" Toreth hissed in a dangerous voice. T'Son quickly shook his head. "I should have you know, Mr. President, that I was passing information your precious government had no clue about to the Romulans for _three years_ before I left when we when young. No government, or individual, or anything at all, can control me."

"That is for sure," Qwi said.

"I am serious, Toreth," T'Son said. "I am not going to do it... yet... but someday you are going to really annoy some alien government and they are going to imprison and kill you."

"Been there, done that, got the T-shirt," Toreth said breezily. "Vokar ended up saving me, as a knight in shining armor should, with an ingenious maneuver involving three of the Kaleh's shuttles, a torpedo casing, and some duct tape. Do _not_ ask." T'Son looked a bit taken aback. Syvar chose this moment to cut in.

"I highly disapprove. With all due respect, Madame Chairwoman, it is extremely foolish to blatantly disregard the laws and rules of other planets because of your own personal agenda. I do not understand how a woman such as yourself ever got to be in such a high position in government."

"I take offense to that!" Toreth said, drawing herself to her full height, which was actually only an inch taller than the Vulcan boy. "It has worked for me so far anyway. You have no right to criticize anything anyway, at least not until you are in a position like your Daddy."

"Daddy?" Syvar asked, looking disdainful in the Vulcan way.

"Never mind," Toreth muttered. "Go spy on my daughter or something. Just do not another word about Romulans and government. I never liked politics anyway- on _any_ planet." Syvar, unfortunately, took her words literally. Throughout the rest of the party, he eavesdropped on the odd couple. Thus, he heard of their plans for escaping that very night.

* * *

That night was a typical night in the guest quarters of the family of the Chairman of the Tal Shiar. In others words, anyone else who had any claim to sanity would stay at least 3.8954883369856 light-years away. Neither Toreth nor her daughter was pretty to be around when they were upset. This was magnified by six when they were stuck in comparatively small quarters on Earth of all places.

"Vokar, please make sure N'Vek finishes that glass of milk before going to bed. Why is he drinking milk this late anyway? He is only six. And Nevala, who was that human you were talking with? You know what I think of humans."

"I'll finish it if Vallie lets me see that doodle she is embarrassed about in her suitcase," N'Vek said with that evil grin only little brothers can master.

"No way, twerp. Mum, his name is Alan Pierce, and he is a decent human! He's nice and funny and cute and smart and... Why are you looking at me like that, Daddy!?"

"Pierce... isn't that your friend, Toreth? Qwi, was it? The one who was exceptionally good at blending into walls- you were jealous of her during that one sabotage mission, I remember. Nevala, did you make friends with her son?"

"Well, do not encourage her, for light's sake, Vokar! Now I remember how hormones raged when I was thirteen, but please try to find a nice Romulan to focus your attentions on. Whatever happened to Tavin? I thought he was your boyfriend."

"Tavin got irritated by my busy lifestyle. And why do you care? I am not in love with Alan anyway. You are so prejudiced, Mum. Just because a bunch of humans were mean three hundred or something years ago does not mean they all are!"

"Then think of your poor family! I am the Chairman of the Tal Shiar! How would it look if my daughter loved a human!? We are not here to make friends, but to make sure that T'Son's peace plans fall through!" Nevala stared at her mother.

"Listen... Mum... never mind, okay? Everyone knows that you love your precious Tal Shiar more than your family anyway. I am going to bed. Have a nice life." The irate teenager stalked off to her room to make sure everything would be perfect for escape that night.

"Well... she handled that... what did I say? You would think there is something wrong with getting one's dream job," Toreth muttered, shaking her head at her utter lack of maternal instinct. "N'Vek, go to bed. Daddy and I need to have a talk." As T'Son, Qwi, Toreth, and Vokar got together by means of viewscreens in their quarters, no one noticed the odd purple, gaseous being hovering where sensing devices would mistake it for a cloud.


	2. LoveHate Relationship

ILuvHawkeye: I sort as see my trilogy as one big story (though of course that is because I know what happened between the stories) but thanks for the compliment.

Data: I think you should be saying "poor Vokar!" LOL He has to endure my arguments with Nevala 26/7. Yes, Nevala, as you will see, does drive me crazy, but for different reasons.

This chapter is not as humorous, but I will hopefully make up for it next chapter. The kids are off, while the Trio faces dissention among its ranks. I had fun writing this!

Alan ducked into a doorway for what seemed like the sixtieth time that night, telling himself over and over again that this was the last time he would _ever_ listen to a Romulan, no matter how friendly she was or how much he wanted to skip a boring peace conference. He had already been caught by his father first and then two janitors, and had had more than enough close calls. Now at last, he entered the deserted corridor where the Chairman's suite was and saw Nevala waiting outside, looking annoyed.

"Where in the galaxy have you been? Come on now, we have to run or we'll miss our opening," she said in a fierce whisper.

"I got caught thrice," Alan whispered. She waved a hand in dismissal and both teenagers jogged down the dimly lit hallway and entered a turbolift. It took them to the shuttlebay, and both breathed a sigh of relief when they saw the doors unguarded. They had not missed their opening. Unfortunately, someone unaccounted for was waiting in the shuttlebay.

"Syvar, what in the Praetor's name are you doing here?" Nevala demanded.

"Stopping you," Syvar said smugly. Apparently, some of his father's emotion had rubbed off on him. The Vulcan walked towards them calmly. Nevala knew the Vulcan way, as her mother had explained it to her. Syvar would not attack physically; he would wait until he got close enough by confusing them with talking, then nerve pinch them.

"I do not have time for this," she spat acidly and pulling out a small disruptor, she swiftly stunned him. Alan turned to her in surprise.

"What did you do that for?" he demanded.

"Welcome to the Romulan world, or at least Mum's version of it. I toned it down for you- he is not even unconscious, just groggy. We have to take him with us though, or else he will undoubtedly tell someone and we might be caught and taken back." Reluctantly, Alan nodded, and with some effort, the human and the Romulan managed to get him in the shuttle and secure him. By the time they got in the shuttle themselves and closed the door, he was fully awake and glaring at them.

"Listen, Sy, you chose to try to stop us, which I might add was really _il_logical, considering who my companion is, so shut and accept your punishment," Alan snapped.

"Of course, if you are experiencing any discomfort, I will be all too happy to drop you off a couple kilometers from Earth, but bring a jacket because space is cold," Nevala laughed. Alan chuckled to himself as he used the rather unfamiliar controls to slowly pilot them out of the shuttlebay. Syvar muttered something in which the words "my father" were distinguishable. (A/N: All expenses paid trip paragliding in the French Alps for two to the person who correctly guesses from whence came that quote!)

"You know, Nevala, instead of tormenting our prisoner, how about you help me?" Alan asked. I know very little about Romulan shuttles."

"Sure," Nevala said, turning around. She stared at the controls a moment, eyebrows drawn together in confusion. At last she spoke. "This... is not a Romulan shuttle. If I am not mistaken, it is Klingon. In all the excitement over Syvar, we must have gotten in the wrong shuttle." Alan and Nevala both turned to glare at the Vulcan.

"It is illogical to blame me, as I was not alert due to a Romulan disruptor fired from 8.73 feet away when I was being carried into the craft," Syvar said. "However, my father, President T'Son, is one quarter Klingon. I know a lot about Klingon technology. I can make this shuttle do a lot of different functions."

"Like we would trust you," Nevala muttered with a scowl. She turned back to the controls and after staring at them for another minute or two, timidly tapped a few buttons. Immediately, the shuttle turned sharply to the right and began accelerating at a dangerous rate. For once Syvar was lucky he had restraints as he watched Nevala and Alan slam painfully against the wall of the small craft.

"What did you do? I least I got us out of that shuttlebay alright! We are already dying and not even out of earth's atmosphere!" Alan shouted over the high-pitched whine building in the engines.

"I found a character that looked a bit like the Romulan character for 'more power to thrusters,'" Nevala said.

"You certainly made us accelerate!" Alan said. The whine was now so loud they could barely form a coherent thought, let alone talk. The inertial dampeners could not compensate for the pressure, and Alan and Nevala were pinned against the shuttle while Syvar was pressed uncomfortably against the side of his chair. On the viewscreen, it showed that the shuttle was flying through an odd purple cloud- one that on closer scrutiny showed that it did not belong on Earth at all.

Alan was the first to slip into unconsciousness, shortly followed by Nevala, then Syvar. None of the teenagers were able to do anything when all movement abruptly stopped and the shuttle plummeted down into a thick forest where a moment ago there had only been buildings. Syvar was kept in the shuttle by his restraints, but Nevala and Alan were flung a ways out- directly into the backyard of a boy named Patrick Marrow.

* * *

"Mommy, Daddy, Alan disappeared!" a hyper, ten-year-old human screamed as she ran into the bedroom of Ben and Qwi and jumped on her father's legs. Larissa Pierce squealed excitedly, rather like her mother, who merely snatched Ben's pillow and covered her ears. Ben took it upon himself to question his daughter.

"Larissa, what do you mean about Alan disappearing?" he asked patiently.

"He's not in his room, Daddy," Larissa said solemnly. "His suitcase is gone too, with all his stuff." Ben and Qwi both sat up very rapidly, Ben remembering with dawning horror his son "getting a drink of water" the previous night. Without a word, both ran to Alan's room and found it exactly as Larissa had described.

"You inform T'Son, I want to go talk to Toreth," Qwi said. "Larissa, stay here and eat breakfast. I will give you a surprise if you behave." Larissa nodded eagerly and ambled over to the replicator as her parents dashed out the door. Qwi ran to Toreth's suite and ran the chime about six times until Vokar opened the door.

"Hello Admiral Qwi," he greeted her pleasantly. "What's the hurry?"

"I have to talk with Tori. Alan is missing, as are all his things," Qwi said.

"Missing?" Toreth came up beside her husband. "Alan? He and Nevala did spend a lot of time together at T'Son's stupid party... maybe they wanted a sleepover or something." Ignoring the horrified look on Qwi's face, she went over to Nevala's door and typed in the password. The door slid open to reveal her room in exactly the same condition as Alan's.

"Apparently it is worse," Vokar said. "Your son ran away with our daughter."

"We have to inform T'Son," Toreth said. "N'Vek is still sleeping- come on!" The three hurried to T'Son's rooms where he, Ben, and his wife, Adamina (A/N: I know it is a human name, but this one website said it meant "of the red earth" and that was fitting and since T'Son's real-life girlfriend's name starts with an "A"... I'll shut up) were discussing something with grave expressions. "Nevala is missing too," Toreth announced without preamble as she stood to the table and sat down heavily in a chair next to T'Son.

"Good," Ben stated. He quickly corrected himself. Well, not good... but Syvar is missing as well and for a moment we were worried that our _sons_ had run off together..."

"That is an illogical conclusion. Syvar does not have your human emotions," Adamina told him.

"Who feels what is not the issue!" Toreth said in exasperation. "The eldest child of the Chairman of the Tal Shiar has gone missing while with her family on Earth in Federation space on a mission of peace! This does not bode well for you or your precious UFP, T'Son. If there was even a slight hope for peace between our governments before, it is pretty much demolished now."

"You set this up, didn't you!?" T'Son gasped. "You treacherous Romulan, are you so against peace that you would kidnap the children of your best friends? Toreth, this is absolutely ridiculous. No one is forcing you to sign the treaty. You have your entire government wrapped around your little finger. What is the meaning of this!?"

"T'Son, you are a narrow-minded fool. Of course I did not kidnap your stupid brat! I hate kids! You are so eager to stereotype Romulans... I bet you do not want peace either! You want to conquer my empire and bring us into your great fellowship! I am telling you now, that will never happen! I will not make this easy for you!"

"Stop it, both of you!" Qwi cut in. T'Son and Toreth stopped arguing, mainly because of shock that the quiet, unassertive admiral had yelled at them. "I may not be the most logical of people"- Toreth snorted- "but even I can tell that you both are really stressed over this and thus are grasping at anything tangible to cast the blame on. You claim to live in an unprejudiced, equal society, but all you do is argue over whether Romulans or Vulcans are better! How about trying to find out where our kids really went instead of pointing fingers and phasers?" Everyone was speechless for a moment. Qwi's speeches were few and far between. At last, Adamina broke the silence.

"That is a logical suggestion, Admiral Qwi. T'Son, calm yourself. You are not following the ways of Surak." T'Son nodded gloomily, but Toreth was still upset.

"I do not have to follow Surak," she declared, not longer full of fire, but ice cold. "And I tell you, T'Son of Vulcan, no matter whose fault anything is, the Empire will be furious, and peace cannot last while my daughter is missing."

"Toreth, these are your best friends. Does everything have to be a war for the Empire?" Vokar asked.

"Vokar, I love the Empire more than almost anything. Friends only live or are friends a little while, but with proper leadership, the Romulan Star Empire could last until the end of time. An alliance with the Federation is extremely ill-advised; I have my reasons. I will take any opportunity to crash this peace party. T'Son, I must speak with my husband. Let us bring this up as our key topic in today's meeting." With that, the proud, Romulan woman spun around and strode out the door with her husband.

"Talk about overreaction..." T'Son muttered. "Qwi, I assume we have no further business until the meeting today starts." She nodded and exited with Ben, thoughts moving at warp 13. How big of a split might this cause Toreth to have from anything UFP _this_ time? She was beginning to understand how Toreth had always felt when she and T'Son had their famous arguments.


	3. Meet the Marrows!

ILuvHawkeye: Sorry about the long wait. You know the reason though. Glad you liked it!

Data: Nevala, Alan, and Syvar are not a trio yet. As for the Trekkie Trio, we argue all the time, even in real life. :) It is fun to write. LOL

Like I said to ILuvHawkeye (who, by the way, is the most impatient person on or off the planet), sorry about the long wait. My left hand has been in a cast for a moment, causing major typing problems. Oh well, I am back. Also, I own the Extraterrestrial Administration of North Carolina, since there is no such thing in real life.

Nevala's eyes snapped open in that freaky horror movie way, only no one was around to see. By the light of what seemed like late afternoon streaming through an unseen window, Nevala looked up at an unfamiliar ceiling. It was not the metal roof of the shuttle, that much was certain… so where was she and how did she get here? Turning her head to the right, she saw Alan lying beside her, still unconscious. She poked the human in the ribs, which woke him quickly enough.

"Where are we? Where is that little traitor Syvar?" he asked. The sound of his voice brought a human woman with short, black hair into the room.

"Hello!" she said with a friendly smile when she saw them. "I am Maria Marrow. My oldest son Patrick found you two in our backyard, unconscious. You have been here for about twenty-four hours. What are your names… and, if you pardon my rudeness, what are you?"

"I am Alan Pierce… Admiral Qwi's son, I'm sure you know her… and I am human and this is Nev-"

"I am Nevala, a prominent member of the Romulan Star Empire," she interrupted. "You would not know my mother though. Where are we?"

"You are in North Carolina, the United States of America, planet Earth, assuming you are an extraterrestrial," Maria answered.

"What are the United States of Amellykelly or whatever?" Nevala demanded.

"It was a really big, prominent country back before Earth was united under one government… but it has not existed for centuries," Alan said in a low voice. Raising his voice, he addressed Maria. "Um, Mrs. Marrow, we have been asleep. What is the date, please?"

"It is Sunday, the eighth of February, 2004 AD," Maria said with a glance at Nevala, wondering if she understood Earth dates. Apparently, she did.

"2004!?" Nevala screeched, leaping up. She started pacing. "Oh shit, what did I do? What was that stupid purple cloud thing? Great galaxies, they did not even have colonies on the moon- if this is Mum's timeline. Then again, if it is mine, they do… I have to find out! Alan, we need to find our mothers. It is imperative! And Syvar's dad… where is that annoying Vulcan anyway? Mrs. Marrow, where is our hostage- Syvar- he should look like a male version of my species, though rest assured, we are _not_ the same species. He is Vulcan and I am Romulan. But, wait, you do not know what either of those are!" She was cut off as Alan stood up and blocked her path.

"Vallie! Calm down! Mrs. Marrow, we are from the future; the 2290s. However, it is vital that no one know this. My government has strict laws about time travel, and interfering with the 'right' timeline. We got back here because Nevala cannot steer Klingon shuttle craft." The Romulan glared at him. Mrs. Marrow shook her head apologetically.

"I am afraid the both my husband and I work. You will have to go to school with my oldest son Patrick- at least if… Romalues… age at the same rate as humans." Nevala gave a stiff nod. "Then I assume you both would be in about eighth grade. Do not worry. The Christian Academy of Verity is very small, and the people there can keep secrets. In fact, my husband is on the Board of Directors. Now, how about dinner, and then a shopping trip to get your school uniforms?"

"That sounds fine, Mrs. Marrow," Alan said, hoping to keep Nevala's temper at least a little bit under control. "By the way, where is Syvar?"

"I am afraid neither I nor my family saw a third person," Maria said sadly. "Come on, I will introduce you to everyone." She led them to the dinner table, where they were introduced to Patrick, who was not exactly welcoming, his younger siblings Gaither and Sophia, and Mr. Greg Marrow. Needless to say, dinner conversation was strained, as Patrick was hardly thrilled with the idea of escorting an alien to school.

"You guys aren't from Star Trek, are you?" he asked warily. "There are these freaks at my school named Stephanie, Nathan, and that-girl-who-is-so-quiet-everyone-forgets-her. They are obsessed with Star Trek and they really annoy me."

"Hey Alan, has your Dad often said that it is so cool that he is finally in the Star Trek universe? And Mom's human name _is_ Stephanie, and Syvar's Dad's name is Nathan, and your Mom has often complained that she feels invisible… and what is the school they detested?"

"The Christian Academy of Verity," Alan breathed. Their eyes met in shock.

"Don't tell me those geeks actually found a way to travel through time, change species, find people who really loved them… wait! Nathan and Stephanie got married, right?" Nevala and Alan gave each other weird looks, then both shook their heads emphatically. "Darn!" Patrick said. "Everyone at school knows they are going out but denying it; maybe they need a little help, like a love note in the right place…" The teenager fell silent, contemplating his options.

"Well," said Mrs. Marrow with a forced smile, obviously not liking the way the conversation was going, "shall we go buy uniforms for Alan and Nevala then? Patrick, you really should come too; I noticed you got another hole in another shirt while I was doing wash…"

"Football is just rough, Mom, do I have to go?" Patrick whined.

"I suppose not. Now go find a hat for Nevala to wear. School people may be honorable, but store clerks are definitely gossips."

* * *

Nevala regarded her reflection with distaste. No longer did she look like a Romulan, daughter of the chairman of the Tal Shiar, with her planet's clothes cut in the style popular among the upper class, but instead like a girl going to a few-hundred-year-old Earth school who just happened to have pointed ears, green tinted skin, and two bones forming a "v" on her forehead. Just your average schoolgirl. 

"Can I come in?" a voice from outside her door asked. Nevala shoved the curtain aside to reveal a just as uncertain looking Alan who was just as stupid-looking in the school uniform. The teens each took one look at each other and burst into laughter.

"Who designs these?" Alan managed to choke out. "Obviously whoever that is wants to either completely humiliate kids or _really_ has no sense of style." Nevala nodded her agreement as she tried to catch her breath.

"They are not _that _bad," Maria said, holding her hands out in a "calm down" sort of way. "Besides, I think I remember watching Star Trek… many, many years ago, and you ought to check your own uniforms before criticizing ours. I do have to admit though, you do look too out of character to look normal."

"Now all Nevala has to do is get her hair cut like that!" Alan said with a laugh, pointing at a picture of Martina McBride with really short hair on the front of a random magazine. He and Maria laughed and began to gather up the clothes they decided to purchase. Neither of them saw the thoughtful look Nevala gave the magazine, or her mischievous grin as picked it up and pocketed it.

* * *

Back at the Marrow residence, the elder Marrows watched some James Bond movie, while the younger male Marrows played on their PS2 and their little sister watched with the otherworldly guests. Sophia kept reminding the boys that their mother had said they had to share, but they told her to shut up and kept playing Halo. Nevala and Alan, however, were not watching the screen, but conversing in low whispers. 

"We need to find a way back to the twenty-third century… and we need to find Syvar before that, much as we hate him," Alan whispered. "If Mrs. Marrow is going to make us go to this school, we might have to run away or something." Nevala looked at Alan like he was crazy.

"Alan, are you going? This is great! For once, we are not trapped by famous parents. I do not have to obey Mum for once- stupid dictator- and not everyone recognizes me, so I can just live normally. From the sound of this school, everyone accepts weirdness. They have to if the Trekkie Trio is going there."

"Are you saying you _want_ to stay in the twenty-first century?" Alan asked incredulously. "They do not even have colonies on their moon or impulse travel or replicators or transporters or anything!"

"Alan, you have no idea what my life is like. All Mum cares about is her stupid Tal Shiar, so both N'Vek and I have gone to boarding schools all our lives. Not only that, but she pushes us so hard in school and I have no time for fun! It is not like I can appeal to Dad, because he could not win an argument with Mum even if he wanted to! Is to live ordinarily for a change so bad?"

"Listen, I know your Mom has a reputation for being… Chairman-ish in everything, but I want to go back. My mom is really nice and lenient- maybe you can spend a year with us or something? At least summers!"

"Maybe," Nevala said doubtfully. "I think I am going to go to bed. According to Sophia, we have to get up at four, because school starts at six, and though I think she was joking, human humor is too hard for me to tell. Jolan tru." She walked off to the sounds of Gaither's triumphant yells as something or other really good happened in Halo.

* * *

Syvar had a splitting headache. Pain was all he could register for a moment until his Vulcan physiology took over and he was able to suppress it. He sat up and looked around. He was in a bed with white sheets, in a room painted white, with a bunch of weird instruments that looked like they came out of a centuries-old hospital. There was a computer screen on a nearby desk that was open to a screen that read "Extraterrestrial Administration of North Carolina- Specimen 26". Below that was a date- February 8, 2004. 

Had Syvar not been Vulcan, he would have wondered if he was dreaming and pinched himself. As it was, he merely thought back to the events of yesterday, or several years into the future, depending on one's perspective, and decided that the weird purple cloud Nevala had run them into was some sort of temporal anomaly. He got up, crossed the room, and attempted to open the door. It was locked. The Vulcan checked for his phaser, and, upon realizing it was not there, decided to try a different approach.

This was apparently the twenty-first century- their computers were primitive and relatively simple to disable. If he could get into this places computer system and figure out the code to open the door, he could get out of this "alien testing center" or whatever it was. No sooner had he pressed the "Start" button on the computer than an alarm sounded. Immediately a few men and women entered the room, all staring at him.

"You said the sedative would keep him unconscious for three days," one of the women said angrily.

"It would keep a _human_ out for three days," a male snapped back. "You know that this is the first time the EANC has had to deal with a _living_ specimen, Lillian!" Before Syvar could realize what the man was doing, he was injected with an old-fashioned syringe and faded back into unconsciousness.


	4. Hilarity Among the GrownUps

This is the product of me typing at 3:00 am. Be afraid. Okay, proceed. And REVIEW!

The various important persons at the meeting were just about ready to give up. Worried though they were about the fact that the three most important teenagers on Earth had just gone missing, the entire meeting had developed into one gigantic argument between T'Son and Toreth. Those two did not argue often, but when they did, they _really_ argued. Most people felt they had be looking for a way to publicly blame each other's government for years, and this thing with their children just gave them an excuse to do so.

"Do something!" Qwi moaned to their spouses.

"Qwi, I am sure you know just as well as I do that when Toreth gets into an argument, it is impossible to get her out until she has won or she has died, whichever comes second. I am sorry," Vokar said with a sympathetic look at the admiral.

"My husband does not follow the ways of Surak," Adamina murmured. "His logic here is flawed. He is arguing when it is pointless right now. The logical thing to do is search for the missing children. Yet he lets his dislike of the Romulans blind him." Qwi frowned; much as she was annoyed with T'Son and Toreth, the strictly logical path of Vulcans was still even more annoying. Therefore she did the first illogical thing that came to her mind.

"Okay, people, coffee break! We have doughnuts and chocolate too!" she shouted, standing on her chair. To her surprise, the important people all voiced their agreement and began moving towards the door. T'Son and Toreth came towards her, neither of them looking very happy.

"You did that on purpose! I was just about to outline how exactly the Federation is better than the Romulans and how we can easily assimilate them into the UFP!" T'Son said.

"Oh, and what about me, eh, T'Son? I was just about to smash your entire premise into little bite-sized pieces and serve them to my kids on slices of toast!" Toreth shot back.

"Sorry! You guys can point fingers without involving the entire galaxy though," Qwi said, trying to look invisible next to Ben. Both pointy-eared beings glared at her for a moment before Toreth broke the silence with, "That chocolate had better be Lindt's Lindor Truffles." Qwi, Ben, and Vokar all laughed until they realized she was serious.

"I suggest we stop this proverbial pointing of fingers and try to find some scientific evidence of where the children have gone, either forcibly or of their own free will, and thus be closer to finding them," Adamina stated. Everyone looked at her like they had never seen her before.

"You know, that's a good idea…" Ben stated slowly.

"Of course it's a good idea! Why did _I_ not think of that? T'Son, you always cloud my judgment! I can never think straight when I am around you! Vokar, remind me why we even had children. The little brats do nothing but get in my way," Toreth said sarcastically, crossing her arms with an air of finality.

"You do not have to be so dramatic about it," T'Son said. "Fine. You Romulans go get your scientists, and we higher life forms will gather our undoubtedly superior scientists. After all, it is not like we put black holes in the middle of our ships or something."

"Well something obviously crawled in your ear and lowered your IQ because I see no sign of that 'superior intellect' in you pathetic idiots. Come along, Vokar. We have things to do, people to meet… unfortunately, places to go, and the rest of that good old cliché." Vokar gave her an amused look before walking out with her. As soon as the doors hissed shut behind them, T'Son dropped into a chair and put his head in his hands.

"Remind me why I invited her to a _peace_ conference," he groaned. Ben and Qwi laughed.

"She is the sister you never had, and you wanted to see her," Qwi said. "Hera knows you two fight like siblings. Just do not let her know she causes you headaches, or she will be delighted and do it all the more." Despite their situation, T'Son smiled.

"My headaches fall under a few categories: work-induced, illness-induced, sleep-deprivation-induced, loud noise-induced, and Toreth-induced. The last category is by far the most severe. Now I have a few scientists to round up. Qwi, go make sure someone is following the Romulan scientists so they are only investigating what they should be. I would not out anything past Toreth today." He offered two fingers to Adamina, who took them, and they too left the room.

"Are they always this… entertaining?" Ben asked, torn between amusement and a slight fear.

"Oh trust me, it gets worse. You should have seen the Trekkie Trio when we were teenagers and hormones were added into the mix," Qwi said.

"What happened?" Ben asked, now looking even more frightened.

"Oh, nothing," Qwi said innocently, though her evil grin belied her words.

* * *

The door to Toreth's temporary office while on Earth slid open and Qwi was almost physically shoved backwards by the volume of hard rock that was playing. Toreth was sitting at a computer screen, pulling up numerous lists, equations, documents, and lots more. On the desk next to the screen lay four empty truffle wrappers and three wrapped truffles. The viewscreen that doubled as a fake window was inactive, allow no light but that off Toreth's monitor to end the room.

"Toreth, what the heck are you doing?" Qwi screamed.

"What?" Toreth screamed back.

"What?" Qwi screamed.

"What? I cannot hear you!" Toreth screamed.

"What? Shout louder please!" Qwi screamed.

"Computer, music off. What?" Toreth asked.

"What the heck are you doing?"

"Working, obviously. My eldest is missing, not to mention this stupid peace conference has set me about sixty years behind on my work for the Tal Shiar."

"Working? I would hardly call these optimal working conditions. I think too many truffles have completely turned your brain inside out," Qwi responded, shaking her head.

"Well, I do anything better in darkness, thus the lack of light," Toreth began. "Truffles keep me alive; I can work and be happy so long as I have my truffles. My precious," she said with a grin, glancing back at the three remaining chocolate balls. "And the music actually comes from Mom. If I listen to a really hard rock really loud, it drowns everything else out, and then I can tune it out and work in silence. Get it?"

"Ye… no," Qwi answered doubtfully. Toreth shook her head.

"Never mind. Has T'Son found anything yet?" Toreth asked.

"No. There is seemly absolutely no evidence in the building whatsoever. However, there is a Klingon shuttle missing. T'Son cannot imagine any of our kids taking a Klingon shuttle, but they are going to search the atmosphere for tracing of a shuttle passing through. Those results should be in in a few hours. But I did not come to talk about work. We have been working all day long. Do you have any popcorn? I feel like watching a chick flick." Toreth stared at Qwi.

"I have not heard that term in years…" Toreth said softly. "In fact, I have not even watched a chick flick in years. Yeah, let's do it. You choose the movie and I will replicate some popcorn and coke. It'll be just like back when we were in middle school, and watched movies at each other's houses every Tuesday and Saturday." She grinned, turned on the viewscreen, and took a flying leap onto the couch. Qwi joined her in much the same manner.

That was how T'Son, Vokar, and Ben found them three hours later, comically reciting along with An Affair to Remember, their second movie, and giggling madly. The men all gave each other odd looks. Vokar and Ben looked mystified. T'Son felt another headache coming on. He would take an all-out argument with both of them over this giggly, girlish side any day.

"Guys, come and join us!" Qwi called with a grin.

"No thank you," T'Son said, holding up his hands. "If I have to hear, 'We've already missed the spring!' one more time, I think I will be ill." Ben and Vokar again looked mystified as both females burst out laughing yet again.

"Why T'Son, I did not think you would remember!" Toreth said with a wide smile.

"I wish I could forget, thank you very much," T'Son said. "Now, we have dinner with the Cardassian ambassador in less than two hours. If you breathe a word about winter being so cold or something, it could ruin any chances of trade with Cardassia, and consequently, contact with Bajor and access to the wormhole to the Gamma Quadrant. I expect you two to be on time and presentable!"

"Grump," Toreth said. She climbing over the back of the couch and brushed stray bits of popcorn off her uniform. "You know I can only stand sappy romances and chick flicks occasionally anyway. I still the same evil dictator you know and love. Besides, the quote goes, 'Winter must be so cold for those who have no warm memories.'" She gave him a grin and walked out.

"Qwi, your friends have the oddest fights," Ben said. "I could swear that she was flirting with T'Son." Qwi shrugged.

"She probably was. Toreth has a perverted sense of humor. You get used to it. Do any of you guys want to finish the popcorn?"


	5. School! Panic! Part I

Disclaimer: My old Latin teacher owns Snaducrhinokey.

T'Son: Thanks for the compliments. Hmmm, several people have mentioned character development. I will try to do more of that.

ILuvHawkeye: I am happy you like it! I tried to put more of you in this chapter, at least at the end, as requested. Next chapter focuses on us as adults, and I will try to put you in more.

This chapter is so long, I am breaking it up into two chapters. Sorry about messing up my one-2290s-chapter, one-2004-chapter routine, but I got very caught up in writing about Nevala's and Alan's first day at my old school. Also, extend your congratulations to one of my reviewers, Data, who guest stars in this chapter. Or chapters. Whatever. Here is part I.

It was another ordinary Monday. The students stumbled into school, exhausted, grumbling about the unfairness of the hour. The sun had barely risen, and fog hung over the streets of the small town. At the Henry's down the road a ways, early morning customers were getting coffee from the drive-through window. The tall brick building with the green sign out in front was innocently standing there, unaware that soon it would house two _very_ unordinary students and everyone's Monday would be completely turned upside down.

Nevala and Alan gave each other worried glances as they walked a step or two behind Patrick. Both wore the hideous uniforms and Nevala had put her hair in a bun, exposing her pointed ears. She was proud, and wanted everyone to know she was Romulan. However, neither she nor Alan was sure anymore if that was a good idea. Neither of them had any idea what to expect. Their parents did not like to talk about their school days. It brought back bad memories.

As the three of them entered the building, students turned to look, saw Patrick, and turned back to their conversations, then did a double-take. No one approached the visitors yet, but shock and uncertainty were in their eyes. Luckily the first period eighth grade classroom was close to the door, and there were only about three students there. Patrick introduced Nevala and Alan to the teacher, then told them to stay, and went out while shouting something about basketball to a boy named Jonathan.

"I want if any of these people are our parents," Alan said softly as they stood at the door.

"No one would be recognizable but your mom," Nevala whispered. "The others changed species, and thus their appearances. We will recognize _my_ mom though by her attitude." Alan stifled his laugh. They did not have long to wait. A minute or two later, a boy with light brown hair slicked down and a girl with long, frizzy blonde hair came around the corner together.

"Nathan, I will play Bridge Commander some lifetime. Now quit nagging me. Go bug Rachel or something," the girl said.

"Right, the mythology book!" the boy named Nathan said with a wide grin. The blonde dropped her head into her hands in a gesture of exasperation. Then both caught sight of Nevala. For some reason, a peeved expression crossed the blonde's face.

"Please do not tell me you have pointed ears because of the imbeciles some like to call elves in Lord of the Rings," she said.

"I have no idea what Lord of the Rings is," Nevala said, glaring at the blonde. "I have pointed ears because of my species- Romulan." The look on both teenagers' faces instantly did a 180 turn and changed to delight.

"You are really a Romulan? You are not a dream? My name is Stephanie Calhoun. Can you take me back to your warbird and Romulus? Are you even here in a warbird? Nathan, do-"

"Whoa, Mum, calm down," Nevala said, recognizing the name. She was shocked by this bubbly, excited side of her mother.

"Mum?" Nathan and Stephanie both asked with odd looks. Too late, Nevala realized what she had said.

"We are from the future," Alan supplied. "I am Qwi Pierce's, or, Rachel East's son. My name is Alan. This is Nevala, Toreth's, or, Stephanie Calhoun's daughter. Somehow you two and Mom managed to find your way forward in time a few hundred years, changed species, and got to positions of power." Just at that moment, Rachel came around the corner and stopped short when she saw Nathan and Stephanie talking to a Romulan.

"Nathan, you never told me you actually were in contact with Romulans! If you had, I would have started watching Star Trek a lot earlier," she said with a grin.

"Uh, Rachel? This is your son, Alan," Nathan said. Stephanie nodded her agreement. Rachel looked from one to the other and, seeing that they were not joking, the blood drained from her face.

"I… get married?" she said in a strangled whisper. This was too much for her best friends, who burst into tears of laughter, causing several students to look at them in disgust. But they were already Outcast Group #2, so it did not matter.

"You owe me money!" Nathan said triumphantly. "You have to pay me millions and millions of dollars because we bet on your marriage!" Rachel glared at him. The moment was interrupted when Stephanie suddenly looked at her watch and said, "Y'all, we have less than ten seconds to get to class!" Nathan took off down the hall towards the Latin classroom and Rachel, Stephanie, Nevala, and Alan re-entered the Christian Studies classroom.

"Good morning, eighth grade," Miss Carr said, looking very happy and chipper, considering the time of day. "We have two very special visitors for an indefinite amount of time. Please welcome Alan and Nevala, two time travelers from planets outside of our solar system."

"Actually, I am human," Alan cut in. "I was only born on a starship during a battle with the Romulans." Everyone except Nevala, Stephanie, and Rachel looked at him strangely.

"Anyway," Miss Carr cut in, "they are here as the guests of Patrick Marrow. Please make them feel welcome."

"I welcome them!" Stephanie said, jumping up. "Can they sit with me, since I am the only on in the room besides Rachel who has actually seen Star Trek?" Miss Carr frowned. Stephanie was normally the student who sat quietly in the back, taking notes and reading books under the table, but still getting straight A's. It was not like her to blurt out. Apparently the visit of these two had shocked her enough that she was acting completely out of character.

"If Patrick does not mind… they are his guests…" she said slowly. The poor teacher had never had to deal with extraterrestrials in the classroom before, let alone having them turn one of the best students in the eighth grade completely inside out.

"She can have them all day!" Patrick said.

"No, because they have to stay with the main eighth grade body. Both Stephanie and Rachel have class with either ninth grade or seventh grade or both. But I suppose they can sit with Stephanie for this class period." They did so, and as Christian Studies was the most boring class ever back when the authoress had it in eighth grade, she is not going to go into any more detail about it.

On the way to the next class, Nevala and Alan were bombarded with questions about the future. Stephanie told them to, "Go watch Star Trek, peoples. _Honestly_," but most of the teenagers were asking questions were more along the lines of, "Did Nathan and Rachel or Stephanie get married?" Sighing at the hopelessness of twenty-first century teenagers, Nevala and Alan bid good-bye to Rachel, who had Literature with the ninth graders that period, and went to Latin class with Stephanie and Patrick.

"Good morning!" Mr. Tucker said when they got to Latin class. "Today in honor of our guests, we are going to play Snaducrhinokey!" Blank stares on the parts of the time travelers greeted him, and eager grins by the rest of the class greeted him. "For those of you who are from the twenty-third century, Snaducrhinokey is a combination of snake, duck, rhinoceros, and donkey." He indicated the strange-looking animal on the chalkboard. "The students answer Latin questions to move up the Snaducrhinokey and the first team to get to its head wins. Do either of you speak Latin?"

"No, but Mum can speak a little," Nevala said. Since gossip flies at Warp 74 in schools, most people by now knew that Stephanie was Nevala's mother, and they turned to stare at her, amazed that she had actually bothered to retain knowledge of Latin for that long.

"I am not surprised. She has an average of 99.7 in this class," Mr. Tucker said under his breath. Nevala's Romulan hearing caught this, and she grinned. Her mother was good with languages, bad with history. The class played Snaducrhinokey, and to the time travelers' surprise, it was quite fun. Mr. Tucker included Alan and Nevala by asked them the most hilarious questions, like what color was a banana. Nevala got that one wrong, and defensively tried to protest that there were no bananas on Romulus.

The next class was Science, and Rachel rejoined the eighth grade. Science was exceptionally boring, as usual, because all the teacher ever did was give them notes upon notes. Nevala and Alan were sitting by the side of the room with a borrowed science book to share, but they were not really listening. Science was, of course, much more advanced in the twenty-third century, and they hardly needed to listen to this junk. They amused themselves by watching Stephanie and two other students named Austin and Sarah compare answers on their Algebra II homework while the teacher was not looking. After Science, they headed upstairs for Study Hall. Stephanie was the one who had to leave this time, for she had math with the ninth graders. She walked with them though, since the Study Hall classroom was next to the math classroom.

"Mr. Jackson!" Stephanie called as they approached. A man who Nevala and Alan assumed had to be Mr. Jackson came up.

"Hello Stephanie, Rachel. What is 18 x 18?" he asked with a smile.

"I still know the Quadratic Formula!" Stephanie said in protest, apparently not knowing 18 x 18 right away like Mr. Jackson thought she should. "Anyhow, Mr. Jackson, these are Alan and Nevala, people from the 2290s. Nevala is a Romulan, and guess what! She is my daughter! Apparently I find some way to change species! Alan is Rachel's son. Alan, Nevala, this is the Best Math Teacher the Multiverses have ever Known, Mr. Jackson."

"Pleased to meet you," Mr. Jackson said with a smile. "If you are with the eighth grade, you have Study Hall with me this period. Come on in."

"I have to get to Algebra II," Stephanie said. "Logarithms." She rolled her eyes and headed down the hall. Nevala and Alan grinned and sat by Rachel in Mr. Jackson's classroom. The spent the entire class talking in low whispers, which Mr. Jackson kindly decided to ignore. When the class ended, they met up with Stephanie and Nathan again to go to lunch. As the Trekkie Trio walked ahead, chatting and laughing about people they knew and the dullness of various classes, Nevala and Alan dropped behind to talk.

"Who would have guessed this is what our parents were like?" Alan asked.

"Not me," Nevala responded. "Mum is not acting like an evil dictator, President T'Son is acting like a normal being instead of halfway trying to follow Surak but still being smug over his position, and Admiral Qwi is even more invisible than she is in our century!"

"Mom is more of a behind the scenes person, while President T'Son and Chairman Toreth are more center stage people. But yeah, who would have thought that our parents would actually be fun to hang out with? Mom and T'Son do not even hate each other yet!" He and Nevala laughed, and ran to catch up with the Trekkie Trio.


	6. School! Panic! Part II

Part II

Lunch was the most exciting time yet. Nevala and Alan politely declined the offers of dining with the girls and the boys, respectively, in favor of sitting with the Trekkie Trio. They sat at their "usual" table, which was the end of the table right next to where the kiddie tables started. The conversation was very lively, as the Trio knew that they were odd, and thus talked about it proudly. Stephanie explained it in simple terms to the visitors.

"The seventh and eighth grades are the only ones you two need to concern yourselves with," she began, "since Rachel and I are in eighth grade and Nathan is in seventh grade. In each class, there are "the boys" and "the girls." For simplicity's sake, we call these two large cliques "the popular kids" because they are normal."

"Ugh!" Rachel said with a shudder. "Normal! What must it be like to be normal!? I cannot believe these people! They are so… so… _sane_! I really cannot understand it. I-"

"Uh… Rachel?" Stephanie asked. "If you please…?" Rachel nodded with a grin, and Stephanie continued. "They could be broken down a little bit more, but that is not important. However, there are people from both of those grades that do not fit in with the popular kids. They formed two different outcast groups. We are Outcast Group #2, also known as the Star Trek Clique. Outcast Group #1 is currently the Yu-Gi-Oh Clique, though it would be more accurate if they were known as the Childish Kind of Anime Clique. I am ashamed to say that I was once part of that group, before Nathan and I started the Trekkie Trio. I even dated their leader…" She trailed off and shuddered. Nathan and Rachel laughed at her dramatics.

Throughout the rest of lunch, the Trio talked about several random subjects. They discussed things like politics in Star Trek. Rachel all but fell asleep during this time and even Stephanie looked bored and played with the dressing on her Chicken Caesar Wrap. Only Nathan looked excited and happy. They moved onto to some vision Rachel had had next. Apparently they played some sort of game where Rachel could see the future, despite the fact that they were not treating it like a game. Nevala and Alan were treated to an exclusive performance by Nathan and Stephanie of the Pepto Bismol song. Rachel was urged by them to join in, but was too embarrassed, as even the high schoolers on the other side of the cafeteria were staring at them. Of course, Nathan and Stephanie loved it. Lastly, they discussed the New Frontier books. Apparently they were Star Trek books and all three teenagers were reading and loving them. To Nathan's annoyance, Stephanie had already placed Mackenzie Calhoun on her list of hottest guys in Star Trek, though Nevala and Alan could not tell if this was because she did it specifically to annoy him or he wanted to emulate Captain Calhoun.

"Where are we going next?" Alan asked when lunch was over.

"Eighth grade has to stay back and clean the tables," Nathan said smugly, "then we have break."

"We probably won't go to outside or to the gym like everyone else though," Stephanie said. "We might go inside the main building and doodle on Mr. Jackson's boards or something."

"Nathan just has to promise not to write RE loves AW on the boards as usual," Rachel said, glaring at Nathan as she picked up a spray bottle and a roll of paper towels.

"If you do not write NB loves SC, I will not write RE loves AW," Nathan said. Rachel explained that RE stood for herself, NB for Nathan, and SC for Stephanie, and AW was a boy in the eighth grade that all of them detested while she and Stephanie did a half-hearted job of cleaning and Nathan stood by and watched them with a smirk. The five then headed back upstairs to the math classroom, where Mr. Jackson was grading papers. Rachel immediately took up a piece of chalk and wrote NB loves SC, Nathan wrote RE loves AW, and Stephanie asked Mr. Jackson if she could grade the sixth grade tests. Nevala and Alan stood there looking slightly nervous when, with an evil grin, Rachel wrote AP loves N.

"I cannot believe this is my _mother_," Alan moaned. Sighing, he took up a piece of chalk and wrote "Rachel Victoria Gwyneth East" on the board in 418 point font. Rachel looked over at the writing and let loose a feral scream of rage.

"How dare you write my other middle name!" she hissed. "I hope my older self grounds you!" Alan gulped and backed away from his mother, who suddenly bore a resemblance to a small but ferocious animal who happened to be more than a little bit lethal. A wild chase followed, where even Nathan and Nevala somehow got involved, until Stephanie looked up and said, "Can you shut up for two blinking seconds? I am trying to give one of my sister's classmates a sixty on this exam- poor kid- and I cannot do that with a herd of wild humans, Vulcans, and Romulans stampeding through the school."

"Well, sorry, oh great and noble Empress, assistant to the greatest math teacher the multiverses have ever known," Rachel said, crossing her arms.

"Well, at least someone knows her place," Stephanie said, completely missing the sarcasm. She bent back over the test and attacked it so furiously with her red pen that even Mr. Jackson turned from the board where he was writing the eighth grade homework despite the fact that he was used to the Trekkie Trio's sometimes violent antics.

At last, however, the lunch period was over and eighth graders began trickling into the room. Rachel and Stephanie explained that they both had a separate study hall this period (which both seemed to look forward too very much, for some unexplained reason), and would Nevala and Alan survive among the eighth graders without them? With grins, the time travelers reassured their parents of their safety despite being with twenty-first century teenagers and all but shoved them and Nathan out the door. The math lesson itself was actually quite boring to Nevala and Alan, and consequently they spent their time whispering to a boy called Mark Cortez, who appeared to be a friend of the Trio. However, both were relived when the seventh graders came in for sixth period.

"Vallie, Alan, you guys go take Literature with Stephanie," Rachel said. "I have math with the seventh graders. Excuse me, I have to grab that desk before Braden does," she said, running to overtake another boy who looked considerably younger. Dismissing it as something twenty-first century, they found the Literature classroom, and despite attempts to sit by Stephanie, only Alan succeeded. Stephanie was in a corner, Alan next to her, Aaron W. next to him, and Nevala on his other side. Throughout Literature, which was even more boring than the other classes as they just read from a very dull piece of human literature called the Iliad or something like they, Nevala and Alan found out exactly why the Trio hated Aaron.

"History is next and then the cruel teachers release us from this place of doom and torture," Stephanie told them with a grin at the end of the period.

"Doom and torture… kind of like your house in the future, where you are the cruel and evil one who checks you in but refuses to check you out," Nevala muttered. Stephanie overheard and laughed at the actually rather apt description of the Chairman of the Tal Shiar.

"Why anyone would care about ancient China is beyond me," Stephanie complained to Rachel. "The only way I care about China is because Spock mentioned it in The Undiscovered Country."

"You watch that movie way too often," Rachel complained right back. "That's okay though. Tomorrow you get away from your serious life because it's Chick Flick Tuesday!" she said with a grin.

"I am so happy you two do not do this in our century," Alan said, completely ignorant of the affair to remember that would happen the day they left. Nevala nodded enthusiastically, knowing that as scary as her mother was in her role as Chairman, she was even more scary when someone gave her sugar or alcohol. However, the dullness of Confucianism lulled them all out of hyperness and left them sleepily staring at timepieces and waiting for that glorious, liberating sound of the obnoxious school bell. It finally shattered the monotony and the Trio met up again, eager to talk for at least fifteen minutes with their children.

"Uh… do I have any kids?" Nathan asked.

"We… sort of lost your kid, Pres- I mean, Nathan," Alan said uncomfortably. "But he is named Syvar and he is a wonderful Vulcan, never fear. Trust me, he can keep his head in a crisis."

"Yeah, and that certainly caused trouble for us when we were abducting him," Nevala added. "If he had made a mistake, we would not have had to stun him, and we would not have got the wrong shuttlecraft… and I just told the future President of the United Federation of Planets that I kidnapped and stunned his son. Oh shit."

"Not at school!" Rachel hissed, slamming a hand over Nevala's mouth. Nathan, however, had not even noticed the cuss word. To everyone's surprise, he started laughing.

"That sounds exactly like something Toreth would do! You Romulans… Well anyway, I can help find my son. I am very good with the computer even in this century, except I cannot use it on Sundays."

"Egotistical," Stephanie told him. "Trust you to start laughing when anyone else would have-" Unfortunately, Nevala and Alan did not have a chance to find out what anyone else would do because Patrick came up to them as fast as possible, begging them to leave so his humiliation could be ended. Reluctantly, they got into the Marrow car with Patrick and Gaither, and sat in the back and talked, knowing that Sophia's excited description of something or other at school would be sufficient to disguise their words.

"I love this century!" Nevala whispered excitedly. "The people here are hilarious, and Mom is actually a normal being! If I had my way… I am not sure I want to leave," she finished in a whisper.

"Are you mad?" Alan demanded. "As soon as we get home, I am going to start work on trying to create another sort of temporal disturbance so we can get home. I hate this insane place!"

"Well, I'll help," Nevala said, slightly offended. "I am just not sure that when the time comes I will use it."


	7. Devious Plottings

ILuvHawkeye: Thanks!

Data: Sorry, I do not miss Veritas. I think the reason I wrote so much is because I can finally say what I truly think of everyone. Mwahahaha! LOL I am glad you like it though.

Star Trek Freak: Thanks for reviewing! Glad you like it!

Sorry about not updating. First I was away for a week for Christmas then I had absolutely no inspiration. I do want to propose an idea to my readers. Who would be interesting in seeing a series of short "filler" stories that take place between Attack of the Trekkie Trio and The Trio Broken just about the Trio and adventures in the Academies and starting their careers. If so, tell me in your review, which I am sure you are going to leave (hint, hint!).

"We found it!" T'Son cried in excitement, running into the room with an excited look on his face. Adamina slowly looked up from the padd she was reading and gazed calmly at her husband. He glanced guiltily at his wife for a moment and tried to control his excitement.

"Now," Adamina said, placing her coffee carefully down on the table beside the couch, "what causes you to have such a human display of emotion?" she asked.

"My team of Federation specialists found the cause of Syvar and the others' disappearance," T'Son said, clearly struggling to contain a grin. "They found it before the Romulan scientists." He looked hopefully at his wife.

"Perhaps you should consider that you put severe limits on the Romulan scientists that your own did not have before flaunting your triumph in the Romulan woman's face," Adamina said deadpan. T'Son seemed to visibly wilt.

"Don't tell me you would take Toreth's side in this," he said.

"Sides?" Adamina asked, raising an eyebrow. "I was unaware of the fact that we are on opposite 'sides' as you put it."

"Must you be so Vulcan?" T'Son asked, dropping onto the couch beside her.

"Of course," Adamina responded, though she let her eyes show a bit of the humor that had rubbed off on her from being around T'Son for so long. He smiled and kissed her.

"I was thinking of just having Admiral Qwi and Chairman Toreth meet me here. Will that disturb you?" he asked. Adamina shook her head and T'Son went over to the intercom and called Toreth and Qwi to his quarters. Within moments, they were all seated around a table with cups of whatever alien beverage they preferred and looking at a viewscreen on one of T'Son's walls.

"There is some sort of temporal anomaly that shows up here in the form of a purple cloud," T'Son said, pressing buttons on his padd. A red line formed a circle around the purple cloud on the viewscreen. "Since our children took a Klingon shuttle and obviously did not know how to fly it, presumably they could fly up and pass through the cloud at this angle, though they would have to accelerate very quickly in a short amount of time." A yellow line appeared, showing the presumed trajectory of the shuttle. "Logically we have to analyze this further to determine precisely when they went, but with _my_ team of highly competent Federation specialists, that should be no problem." Toreth rolled her eyes and kicked T'Son under the table. He was just lucky she no longer wore wooden shoes. Qwi leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes.

"Well, that leaves me out… again," she said. "I'm a doctor, not a temporal expert. If the kids suffer any adverse effects from time travel, then I can step in."

"You never told me she was a doctor," Adamina accused T'Son. "Admiral, are you the same Doctor Pierce who wrote the article on myelin in Andorians?" she asked, looking more excited than Toreth or Qwi had ever seen her.

"Um, yes," Qwi said, remembering her article which had been printed in at least eight Federation magazines alone.

"But that was the most brilliant piece of work!" Adamina said. "I was hoping, along with the rest of the medical community, for a follow-up that might actually lead to a cure for Histumstroimyllirewtigitus. Several Andorians a year die from it, you know. Why did you stop with the article?"

"I am afraid that neural diseases in Andorians is hardly my specialty," Qwi said sadly. "Even discovering what I did was just a fluke in a different project I was doing. I would have no clue which way to go; I just identified the cause of Histumstroimyllirewtigitus and what it affects."

"Well we should, as you humans might say, go out for coffee sometime. We should discuss this further. I know I majored in telepathy in various species as a doctor, but I might still be able to offer some insight into your research." Looking around at the other four yawning, Adamina realized she and Qwi had been talking for way too long. "But of course, the children are more important right now," she said. T'Son gave a nod and turned back to the screen. However, before he could continue the briefing, a chime sounded at the door.

"What now?" he muttered, turned to the door, looking rather annoyed. "Come!" he told it irritably. An ensign entered, clearly fresh from the Academy and very nervous at being in the company of so many important people.

"President T'Son, sir, you have a visitor," she said quietly, cowed by T'Son's peeved look. T'Son was about to open his mouth to demand who it was but before he could, someone shoved the poor ensign aside and entered.

"Hello T'Son, Qwi, Toreth!" Captain Kirk said cheerfully.

"Jim! Good to see you!" Toreth said with a smile. "I have not seen you since Khitomer!" she said, hugging him. "By the way, T'Son, I am still mad at you for arresting Valeris. What brings you here, Jim?"

"Well," Captain Kirk said in between hugging Qwi and T'Son too, "I find retirement boring, especially now that they are retiring the Enterprise A, so I figured I would come here and help my favorite teenagers find their kids. You sound like you could use the expertise of Starfleet's finest," he said with a teasing grin.

"You are more egotistical than T'Son," Qwi said. "We are all in our forties now, Jim."

"Only you are the one who shows it, being human though," T'Son said. "Toreth and I still have hundreds of years to enjoy whereas you look middle-aged. In fact, I think-" He was interrupted when Qwi shoved him into the table, nearly knocking it over. Toreth decided to intervene before Qwi got arrested for killing the Federation president.

"Okay, right, we all know Qwi is going to find Neverland someday while patrolling an obscure part of the quadrant and become five years old again, but can we please _focus_ here? The heiress to everything I built up is missing and I need her back, despite the fact that I have a second brat and I am probably just going to leave everything to someone more worthy than either of mine."

"That's nice," Kirk said sarcastically. "Show me what you have so far and we can work out a plan. We can have those children back before morning tomorrow! Spock is here too."

"No can do. We have a gigantic dinner with all the visiting ambassadors," Ben said, rolling his eyes. "What with it being twenty-four courses and all the other extraneous things that go on at a peace conference, the six of us are bound to be there at least until 4:00." Qwi muttered something unpleasant under her breath, obviously having forgotten about it.

"Am I invited?" Kirk asked. This time, even T'Son would have said he was egotistical.

* * *

T'Son had officially decided that whoever planned events was absolutely insane by the time he arrived at dinner that night. Not only was he unable to cancel the dinner or skip it and continue searching for his son without offending several powerful governments, but it turned out he and Qwi were seated at one table together and Toreth was a different one three tables away. (The room was filled with round, eight-person tables with special accommodations for various species). Toreth had given him and T'Son a grin and left with Vokar, smirking when she thought he was not looking. 

"I could swear that Romulan did this on purpose," Qwi said darkly, also noticing Toreth's expression and echoing T'Son's thoughts.

"Yeah… too bad we used up our one agreement of the decade before dinner even started," T'Son said with a small smile. Ben and Qwi allowed themselves open grins. "I just hope the others will not mind if the Federation president works on a padd under the table all night long," T'Son muttered, taking his seat. "Toreth is certainly not doing anything." He scowled in the direction of her table, where she was engaged in a lively discussion with the Cardassian ambassador.

"Why is this such a big deal anyway?" Ben asked. "Each of you may think your government is better, but why do you always have to prove your government is better? Isn't friendship more important?"

"Ben, you are so naïve," Qwi said with a laugh. "T'Son and Toreth are both extremely egotistical and proud, and like repel each other. Neither of them has exactly been trying to keep the Trio together anyway."

"Oh, and you have," T'Son said sarcastically.

"T'Son, I advise you not to argue with Admiral Pierce at this point," Adamina murmured. "We may be at dinner and not the negotiating table, but the Federation must still present a unified front if we are to be taken seriously by other race… particularly your Romulan friend. Should anyone see the Federation President indulging in petty quarrels with an Admiral in public…"

"Wise counsel, my love," T'Son said, still not looking too happy. "For now, I shall attempt to enjoy the evening. At least the food will be good. I hope we get some Chateau Picard with at least one course." He grinned and sat down, letting Adamina sit between him and Qwi.

* * *

At Toreth's table, a conversation of a very different nature was taking place. For the Chairman, even dinner was just a more subtle form of the negotiating table. She had indeed had a hand in the seating assignments, though she truthfully did not care if T'Son and Qwi were together or not. She wanted to talk with the Cardassian ambassador… away from T'Son's pointed ears. She had her suspicions, and wanted to test them. 

"What are you planning?" Vokar asked. Before Toreth could protest, he added, "Everyone who knows you well can recognize that look on your face and know that you are planning something. Can you tell me?"

"I am about to make my first friend since I met you, Vokar," Toreth said with an evil smile. She showed him a padd under the table. "Ambassador Nador, representing the Cardassians at this stupid peace conference and, I believe, a member of the Obsidian Order."

"How do you know? And what are you planning to do about it? Please, Toreth, do not go rushing into something dangerous again," Vokar pleaded. Toreth blushed a little, recalling the incident of which he spoke.

"Some of the ways he acted at dinner last night… just seemed like things an intelligence agent would do," she said. "Being Chairman of the Tal Shiar for fifteen years makes you learn to recognize these things, despite the fact that Nador was very skilled. Everyone knows that the Obsidian Order is the only intelligence better than the Tal Shiar. Now, if we were to form a Tal Shiar-Obsidian Order alliance…" A grin also spread across Vokar's face. He knew what she driving at.

"Please do not tell me that you are going to confront him at dinner at least," Vokar said.

"Never worry," Toreth said, standing up at the approach of the ambassador. "I have everything perfectly under control." She missed the worried look on her husband's face. "Hello, Ambassador Nador, how are you?" she asked with a smile. "Oh and by the way…" She leaned forward and whispered something that made the ambassador start.

"Very well… um, should we meet after dinner perhaps…?" he asked, completely caught off guard.

"Certainly. We can meet in my quarters. After all, there are very private matters and I know where T'Son hides my listening devices." She smirked and sat back down, giving a grin to Vokar. "See? I told you I can work everything out."

"I really wish you would tell me before doing something like this," Vokar whispered. "What did you tell him?"

"Vokar, I am the Chairman of the Tal Shiar. I can handle myself. At least I will allow you to be including in our meeting tonight. Are you going to eat that fish?"


	8. To Avoid the Future

ILuvHawkeye: Thanks so much! I always enjoy reading your things.

Star Trek Freak: Thank you! I might write the filler stories, but seeing how my dedication to this story has sort of faded, I may not anymore. I am glad you like the idea though!

You know what? I am not even going to try to explain this delay. Most of this chapter was written over a year ago, but lacked a few concluding paragraphs. If anyone is still reading this, enjoy. This chapter is dedicated to ILuvHawkeye. I cannot give you the Trio back, but I can give you this.

Syvar suppressed a quick flash of triumph as the device fell off the tangle of wires and into his hands without making a sound. He carefully reached up and moved the mouse of the computer around. No alarm sounded. The Vulcan placed the alarm carefully on the floor behind the desk and sat in the computer chair. After a minute or two of acquainting himself with the mouse and keyboard, he began hacking into the EANC's security system.

As he worked, Syvar could not help wondering where Alan and Nevala were. Was Nevala being held somewhere else in the EANC? That could not be correct, because one of the male humans had said that this was the first time they had to deal with _a_ living specimen. So assuming Nevala and Alan had got away, where had they gone? And why did they not take him? The Vulcan sighed. Being lost in the twenty-first century with a human and a Romulan was at the height of illogic, but nonetheless it was a fact.

A soft alert sound told Syvar he had succeeded in disabling the security system. Wasting no time, the Vulcan immediately got up and left his room. The hall he emerged in was deserted, and was merely a long hallway with doors on either side and a turbolift at one end. Syvar walked toward it and nearly slammed into it when the doors did not slide open. He hit a button on the side of the turbolift which looked like a manual override and was rewarded when the doors slid open. He entered and said, "Exit." The turbolift did not move.

Syvar sighed. Apparently all verbal commands on this lift were broken. He decided to assume that the numbers next to the buttons on this manual override were like the numbers of the decks of a starship and pressed the one labeled "6." With a quickly suppressed stab of annoyance, Syvar realized as soon as the turbolift started moving that he was going up. He pressed the button labeled "1" but the lift kept going up. The doors slid open at level six and Syvar just remembered in time to push the button instead of telling the doors to close.

At last Syvar got off at level one and saw the main entrance looming up ahead. Following the example of the last Vulcan who went back in time, Syvar tore a strip of clothing off one of his sleeves and tied it around his head, covering his ears. With that he walked outside and was faced with buildings. And cars. And humans. And a large square with a huge fountain right in front of him.

Syvar was lost downtown in some random city in North Carolina (judging by the license plates) in 2004. Sighing, Syvar began to look for someone who could give him more specific knowledge.

---

Nevala picked at her food, bored. Rachel and Stephanie were having a heated discussion about something called the Clayr's Glacier and Nathan and Alan were discussing some guy thing. The NASCAR shuttle races, if Nevala was not mistaken. Nevala was eavesdropping on the seventh grade girls seated directly behind her. They were discussing whether Belle Fleur or Watery Sunlight eye shadow would look better with the complexion of some girl named April Singer.

"So Nevala and Alan, what is it like living with the Marrows?" Stephanie asked with a grin, apparently tired of her Abhorsen trilogy conversation. "Do you know of any embarrassing habits I can blackmail Patrick with?" She grinned evilly.

"You Romulan…" Rachel muttered.

"Actually, no, Chai- Stephanie," Alan said. "Yesterday was boring since he and Gaither just played video games all afternoon so Nevala and I jumped on the trampoline and watched the Next Generation when it came on. Now that is the oddest thing I have ever seen in my life. It's like watching reality shows on the viewscreen… only it really is reality, not something grossly exaggerated!"

"Rachel, we have to show them The Undiscovered Country!" Stephanie said in excitement. "Can you guys come over after school? It's already Chick Flick Movie Night, but we can sacrifice that for you."

"What about me?" Nathan demanded.

"Awww, poor baby," Rachel said sarcastically. "You always laughed at us for having Chick Flick Movie Night twice a week. Now you know- never laugh at a girl for liking chick flicks!"

"Oh come on, Rachel," Stephanie sighed. "Yes, Nathan, it is at my house so you can come… if you promise never to laugh at us for enjoying sappy romances again." She and Rachel burst into laughter at the look on Nathan's face.

"Um… Mom? Admiral Qwi? Whoever you are? Alan and I cannot come. Mrs. Marrow has some errands downtown and wants to show us the city," Nevala said.

"Oh," Rachel said. "Maybe some other night… what is Saturday?"

"Valentine's Day," Stephanie said. "I hope Andrew remembers…"

"Valentine's Day?" Nevala asked.

"I forgot- you are Romulan," Rachel said, taking over for Stephanie. "Valentine's Day is the day of love, to celebrate couples. It always turns into this gigantic deal with a bunch of pressure though to do something special. Most of the time we hate it. Apparently Stephanie is happy though. She has an online boyfriend who is probably some 40-year-old who wants to kidnap her and kill her!"

"Rachel, relax. I know karate, I'll be fine," Stephanie said with the air of one who had heard this many times before and was tuning it out. "Get on Nathan's case about Alicia- his girlfriend," she added for Alan's and Nevala's sakes. "Come on, lunch is almost over. Do you want to skip choir and go with Rachel and me to Mr. Jackson's room?"

"Stephanie! I told you and Rachel not to skip choir!" Nathan admonished.

"Well, Mrs. Stencil likes you," Stephanie said patronizingly. "In my case, she is a bitch who utterly detests me." Rachel nodded fervently. Nathan looked slightly annoyed. Apparently this was a subject on which the Trio was divided.

"They should at least be allowed to determine whether or not they want to try choir," Nathan pointed out rationally. The Trekkie Trio turned to Alan and Nevala, expectant looks on their faces.

"Sure, why not?" Alan said at last. "I am fairly decent at singing."

"Lucky!" Stephanie grumbled. "I suck… Mrs. Stencil hates me… Nathan and Rachel close their eyes and moan…"

"We do not!" Rachel protested. "Come on, you are not that bad…" Still bickering, the five made their way across the parking lot and into the drama room. They were the first ones there. Nevala and Alan looked around in wonder. They had never seen a room quite like this. There was a piano in one corner, shelves full of ancient copies of National Geographic, whatever that was, oversized building blocks on the floor, and about sixty signs that all said, "_IF IT IS NOT YOURS, DO NOT TOUCH IT!_" Nathan went onstage, looking as though he was about to sing. Before he could though, five or six blonde girls, around eleven or twelve years of age, came in.

"That is Christi, Stephanie's little sister," Rachel told the time travelers.

"She does not like to talk about her either," Nevala whispered back. Rachel grinned evilly. They turned to watch the sixth graders, hiding grins as they shuddered upon setting eyes on Nathan and Stephanie. However, a moment later, their expressions completely changed upon setting eyes on Alan.

"Who is that hunk?" one of the girls asked, giggling. The others all nodded, though Christi elbowed the girl who had spoken as she nodded. Alan looked slightly taken aback.

"Hunk of what?" he asked cautiously, sending the girls into peals of laughter again.

"It means you are handsome in their eyes," Stephanie said bluntly. "Christi, take your posse and go drool over Mr. Breedhate or something. Alan is too young for you guys." All of the girls giggled again when Stephanie mentioned Mr. Breedhate, whoever he was. It was getting very annoying…

"I do not want to be anyone's boyfriend at this school!" Alan said, a slightly panicked look in his eyes.

"Welcome to the club," Rachel said dryly. "Where is Mrs. Stencil?" Luckily for the Trio and their kids, more students came in at that point and an ugly lady with white hair directed them into groups according to soprano, alto, tenor, and bass. Rachel, Nathan, and Christi's posse were sopranos, Stephanie and Nevala were altos, and Alan was a tenor. Alan and Nevala decided to just listen as the kids started singing a jazz song called "Blue Moon."

"Blue moon/You saw me standing alone/Without a dream in my heart…"

---

"My second day and already I hate school," Alan groaned as he and Nevala followed Gaither into the Marrows' minivan. "Twenty-first century humans have a really weird style of teaching. And social interactions… I am not even going to go there."

"What's wrong?" Nevala asked with concern. "We do not have to know the academic junk anyway and a bunch of girls like you. Is that so horrible? I find school rather invigorating!" Alan just shook his head. She would get her eye-opener soon enough.

The time travelers sat in silence for the rest of the trip, the only sound in the back being the soft music of Gaither's Gameboy Advance. Nevala was staring out the window, fascinated by these primitive people. Everything was so much more exciting than in her mother's cold, sterile warbird. Alan stared at Patrick's physical science book, hoping he could get some sort of inspiration for sending himself and Nevala back to the future. When at last they pulled into a parking garage, neither had any more inspiration than before.

"Nevala, Alan, I want you two to stay with me. Gaither and Patrick, you can go to that comic book store and stay there. First, we have to get Sophia a haircut." They began walking downtown, passing a gigantic fountain in the middle of a huge square. There was a teenage boy sitting on the edge of it with a strip of cloth around his forehead who looked oddly familiar, but neither Alan nor Nevala went over for a closer look. Instead, they entered a tiny shop that merely said "Smartcuts" on a sign out front.

"Mrs. Marrow," Nevala said suddenly, "may I get a haircut too? Nothing can happen on Mum's warbird without her sanction, and I could never ask her for anything. Even I do not know how to disguise a haircut as something 'good for the Empire.' Please?"

"Well, if your mother will not allow it… but I suppose," she relented, remembering that she would be long dead by the time Toreth and Nevala met again, and even the Chairman of the Tal Shiar could not sue a dead woman.

"Wow," Alan said, perched on a chair beside Nevala a few minutes later. "You really are going all out to break every rule Chairman Toreth imposed on you." He sighed and shook his head. "Only her daughter would have the guts to defy someone as scary as your mom." Nevala laughed.

"Do not forget- I have my mom's genes. I can be quite scary too." She was kept from saying anymore when a young lady with immaculately styled blonde hair came over. Luckily for the time travelers, the only comment she made about Nevala's ears was, "You kids are way too obsessed with Lord of the Rings. Fake ears have not been in style since the sixties." She then proceeded to ask Nevala how she wanted her hair, and then cut it. Alan stared at her thoughtfully for a moment before speaking.

"You really don't plan to return to our time, do you?" he asked, not noticing the odd look the hairdresser gave him.

"Not at all," Nevala said. "I might not stay on Earth, but I definitely do not want to return to life on the RIW Kaleh. Just think about it, Alan! Humans have not yet explored space. The UFP does not even exist yet. I could flee to the Delta Quadrant and settle on a planet where no one has even heard of Chairman Toreth. Even in our time, only the Alpha and Beta Quadrants have been explored."

"Alright, look!" the hairdresser said suddenly. "You two are giving me a headache! Whatever game you are playing, I don't get it. I don't even own a computer. Just stay still so I can cut your hair evenly." Nevala lapsed into a sullen silence and Alan seized a magazine and started idly flipping through it, not really seeing the words. Nevala's plan spun through his head to the sound of scissors opening and closing.

---

Mr. Jackson passed the great fountain downtown for the third time, trying to find a place to park. Interestingly enough, the boy he had noticed the first two times was still sitting on the edge of the fountain, silently scanning everything with keen eyes. He did not look homeless, and Mr. Jackson figured he probably ought to ask if the youth was lost. He rolled down a window.

"Are you alright?" he asked. The boy looked up.

"Yes, sir," he answered courteously. "I merely became separated from my friends, Alan Pierce and Nevala, and we agreed to meet at the fountain if such an occurrence were to happen." Syvar calmly delivered the lie had thought of with a straight face. The names struck a chord with the math professor, who remembered the strange visitors his favorite students had introduced as their children.

"Are you Syvar?" he asked.

"Yes," the boy answered, shock quickly crossing his features before it was ruthlessly suppressed.

"Perhaps you had better come with me," Mr. Jackson told the Vulcan. "I met your companions and teach your father Nathan Black at my school. Perhaps I can help you find your way back to your century." Syvar raised an eyebrow, but got in the car, secretly relieved to have finally found the others and the potential of a way home.


End file.
